Hetalia kink meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hetalia_kink) wrote2011-02-26 01:33 pm
hetalia_kink) wrote2011-02-26 01:33 pm
Past Part Fills Part 2 -- CLOSED
This Past-Part Fills post is now closed to new fills.
Fresh past-part fills post HERE
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Ricette d'amore [5c/13]
(Anonymous) 2010-04-18 08:40 am (UTC)(link)While Gilbert had still been in the hospital, in the days after Ludwig had been suspended from work, he had spent every waking moment searching for the perfect new apartment for the both of them. For the perfect recipes for a person recovering from major injuries. For everything and anything Gilbert could possibly need after leaving the hospital.
What Ludwig had found was acceptably close to perfect, although he had hoped for a larger kitchen. It was a first floor apartment, fairly spacious, with wide doorways and ramps and automatic doors at every outside entrance. The bus line ran not too far from their front door, and there was a market only four blocks away, should Ludwig need any certain ingredient at a moment’s notice.
It was wonderfully quiet as well, even better than Ludwig’s previous apartment. The only noises that Ludwig had heard as he had unpacked two lives’ worth of belongings were the sounds of birds chirping and the faint tinkling of a piano.
Not perfect, but as close as the brothers were going to get.
Gilbert first saw the apartment on the day of Elizaveta’s funeral. Ludwig had hoped there would be more time. More time for him to unpack, more time for him to get Gilbert used to the idea of living together. More time to breathe.
Instead, Gilbert had let himself be rolled inside, had taken one look at the stark white walls and had pronounced the place “a total dump. Seriously, Wessie, how do you always manage to find the most soulless places? Do they call to you?”
That was just Gilbert being Gilbert, so Ludwig hadn’t paid him any mind. They had gone through the last few boxes then, an odd assortment of magazines and baskets and instruments from Gilbert and Elizaveta’s tenth floor apartment on the other end of the city. Ludwig had set aside his own belongings first; it hadn’t taken much time. He didn’t own many things.
Gilbert, on the other hand… Ludwig couldn’t stand his brother’s penchant for clutter. And not just clutter, because Ludwig could forgive that some people enjoyed having many possessions. No, Gilbert had to have his things spread out and everywhere. Like a cloud.
Within minutes of their arrival, their new, not-quite-home-yet was a total mess, as Gilbert tore through Ludwig’s weeks’ worth of painstaking organization.
“The hell is this doing here? This doesn’t belong in this room, it belongs by the other instruments.” Ludwig had stopped listening to the various thumps and clinks of Gilbert inflicting a whirlwind of damage on his (their) living room.
He had already cleaned. He had already organized everything. Everything was in its proper place. Why did Gilbert feel the need to change things without any substantial reason?
“And what’s this? A diary? I thought you stopped being a teenage girl when you got out of cooking school, Wessie. What does it say…”
That was quite enough. “Please set that back where it belongs, brother. It is my… journal. I am to write in it.” Ludwig crossed the living room, slowly picking his way through the piles of belongings that Gilbert had decided were inappropriately placed.
“Obviously.”
“I will take it then.”
“Then do that.”
“Fine. I will.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”
“There is no door to this room!”
“It’s a figure of speech, you literal freak, but don’t let that stop you from leaving the damn apartment!”
“This is my apartment too. And you will respect the order within it.” Ludwig grabbed several of the books Gilbert had tossed onto the floor. “These belong on their shelves, by genre and author’s last name. Why did you take them out?”
Gilbert swatted the books from his brother’s hand and tossed a pillow at his head for good measure. “Because they’re mine. They should be in my room. Not out here.”
Ricette d'amore [5d/13]
(Anonymous) 2010-04-18 09:00 am (UTC)(link)“Don’t give me any of that shit that you probably picked up out of the library, or so help me God I will find a way to walk over there and throttle you. You have no idea how I’m feeling right now, little brother. Do you ever even feel? So just shut up and get out. I’ll call for you if you’re necessary.” He went back to browsing the books on the shelf, occasionally tossing one or two behind him. “But don’t hold your breath.”
Ludwig left.
Living with Gilbert was… difficult. Far more difficult than Ludwig had expected. Gilbert refused to eat at the same times as Ludwig. He refused to eat the same things Ludwig ate. For a week, he refused to eat anything at all, except for a jar of marmalade and some old crackers that Ludwig didn’t recognize.
It was even worse than that.
Not only did Gilbert not nourish himself properly, but he deemed it necessary to make Ludwig’s life a living hell as much as he possibly could.
He instigated fights.
“You son of a fucking whore!”
“That is quite enough!”
“Yeah? Then make me stop!”
“We have the same mother.”
“And yours was uglier.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, brother.”
“Neither does your face. Now gimme the remote!”
He woke Ludwig up at odd hours.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“This is the Beilschmidt residence.”
“Hey Wessie, it’s three in the morning. Guess where I am.”
“You are outside my door, in the hallway. Brother, I can see the lights under my door.”
“Fuck yeah I’m in the hallway!” Click. The sound of a soft tire tread lulled Ludwig back to sleep on those nights, as Gilbert slowly made his way back down to his room on the other end of the hallway.
He insulted Ludwig.
“You pansy-ass faggot think you can order me around? Well I’ve got news for you. You can crawl back into your hole and die, because I never want to see you again. Leave me alone!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Leave me alone.”
He made messes, messes that he never never cleaned, no matter how many chore charts Ludwig stuck to the wall. Not even if they were well within his ability. The worst thing was when Gilbert didn’t do anything at all, and that was how he spent most of his time. Just sitting there, ignoring everything. Wasting away.
Ludwig was ashamed that in his heart, he could not wait until the day he could return to the restaurant and escape from his brother for glorious hours at a time.
Thank you everyone for your responses. They’ve given me lots to think about, especially the ones from passerbynon. I’ll say straight up that I'll be handwaving some of the therapy. Most importantly: Ludwig doesn’t think anything’s wrong with him, other than maybe other people don’t understand him. He’s found a private therapist to go to because Arthur double whammy ordered him to / said he’d fire Ludwig if he didn’t go. This is possible because I say so (I hate having to use that excuse, so I hope it doesn’t ruin the story for you guys). There are 2.5 more therapy sessions planned, and you may notice Lili being stricter during them (also, the journal idea? Really good. Yoinking). This is what I get for putting more of a focus on the sessions than the movie did, huh? Anyway, next time Ludwig’s back in the restaurant, but things seem a little different than before…
[Random people on the internet may not be 100% accurate? Next you’ll be telling me not to trust Wikipedia! :)]
Another thing, I checked in on the comments today, and I liked reading them. Is that weird to say? I think it’s interesting hearing what you guys’ve got to say. (I kinda want to give you a hug, passerbynon. Whether you need it right now or not.)
Learned some interesting things looking up Old Fritz. Anyone who wants a reason why Prussia still exists? Well, according to the House of Hohenzollern, he’s still got royalty…
One last thing: fluteboxing is real!
Re: Ricette d'amore [5d/13]
(Anonymous) 2010-04-18 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)Back to the fill (I feel like I'm ignoring the poor author!anon, but I love you, really!): I knew this part was going to be painful, and I knew Gilbert would have come off as kind of an ass, but it was still really powerful. Especially because you decided to not sugar-coat it, since you went with the idea of the two of them being estranged in the first place. And Gilbert's violent grief is made even worse by how Ludwig is simply unable to understand it. Really, I couldn't tell who's more trapped, if Gilbert in his wheelchair and his pain or Ludwig in the walls he built to preserve his mental order and his absolute inability to express his feelings.
It's just so sad. The only thing that keeps me from bawling is the fact I know things will get better, if slowly and painfully.
Re: Ricette d'amore [5d/13]
(Anonymous) 2010-04-18 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)Also you're therapy sessions are wonderful. They remind me a lot of the ones I was required to take for school (why because in fifth grade the school thought I needed professional help) though mine weren't because I had OCD or anything like that, I just get in these moods that last like a week at the most and happen very rarely and the school thought I was going to kill myself or someone else
yeah I know sounds insane.Author here
(Anonymous) 2010-04-20 02:22 am (UTC)(link)It's good to hear that you like the therapy bits... and even as I say that I've gotta warn you that I'm going to be spending some time before writing the next one glancing through therapy web pages and Google Books(totally in depth research, I know!) and revising Liechtenstein (making her stricter? having her be more open with Ludwig? I dunno yet).
I hope life's treating you well, anon. I'd send you some hot cocoa through the internet, but I don't think my laptop would appreciate all the liquid in its sensitive computing bits. But know the thought is out there.
Re: Author here
(Anonymous) 2010-04-23 03:41 pm (UTC)(link)Well Liechtenstein seems pretty on to me but all of sessions were for something completely different and I was a kid.